Dragon Ball: Forgotten
by Nex
Summary: Buu has been vanquished, his evil banished from the universe. Things are safe now and Kaioshin can rest easy for a time it seems. But, in this case, as in many others, things are not what they seem. New perils loom on the horizon.
1. Chapter 1

**Forgotten **

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The peace was unnerving. Deceiving. The halted breath before the scream.

Until recent years, the calm had been nestling serenely against the humble tranquility of Kaioshin Kai. The wind of the heavens would fall on the rich valleys like warm honey, relaxing and rolling itself across the grass trampled on by only the holiest of beings. The orange-pink shroud of the celestial sky was thrown across one's vision as if it were a veil of beauty, covering the eyes to keep from taking it all in at once, lest they be killed. Only the sounds of the song birds could be heard, the smell of the water's edge solely penetrating the nostrils. To Kibit, it was home. To him, it was beautiful.

At least that's what it used to be. The original intention. This sacred planetoid was only a hollow frame of what it once was. A sadness filled his eyes as he peered over his shoulder. The grass that tickled like a fairy's feather, and smelled almost as sweet, was still marked by the battle with Buu two years beforehand. He would never forget the day that mortal and evil blood alike was to be spilled here. Originally, that would have been out of the question. When Kaioshin made the decision to end the fight for existence on this place, Kibit knew in his heart that it would only be the first of a series of broken sacraments. Nothing ever stayed perfect for very long. That's just the way life works. It's a cycle of disappointments, failures, let downs, and false hope. He had hoped that the situation with Buu could be ended in one swift blow. He had hoped that the warriors of Earth would only help things, rather than complicate them. He had hoped that Kaioshin wouldn't grow attached to them. And he had hoped that with Rou Kaioshin stepping in place over his former master, that the wrong could be made right.

But never in all the ages had he imagined… this…

_Calm yourself, Kibit…_

"Back so soon?" the guardian spoke aloud. "You've only been gone for a few short hours."

_What else can I really do?_

"Let me find them!" Kibit shouted in anger now, throwing his fist for emphasis. "This is blasphemy in the highest regard, Kaioshin!" The last word of his outcry found its way into the clouds, as they shouted it back and forth to one another with all the fury that his own voice carried.

_Please, Kibit. May I take the reigns again?_

Kibit held the comparably tiny hand of the Kaioshin before his eyes. The light violet body felt fragile under the strength of his spirit, and the palms seemed calloused with worry. Kaioshin had seen far too many atrocities in his day. Being angry and outrageous would only add to the ever-increasing stack of fret.

"You may," he whispered. "After all, it is your body."

_Thank you._

With a low groan, the man let his eyes roll into the back of his head, and after a brief release of air, Kaioshin was back. The two had worked out a system over the past couple of years that proved to be rather effectual, trading places in Kaioshin's body for thought or other business. Under the advice of Rou, they had merged into one being, making things quite simple for themselves. And, as always, Kibit had remained ever vigil, ever serving, watching and waiting, guarding and meditating. A lighthouse for the storm. Just as Rou…

With a hushed breath, the immortal glanced over his shoulder at the mutilated figure that lie limp on the grass of Kaioshin Kai. The holy blood had long since dried, seeping into the soil underneath. Rou's body- if one could call it that. It was hardly recognizable. Several slashed wounds ran from shoulder to hip, ear to ear, and neck to gut. Whoever it was, it had to be the work of the most devious assassin ever conceived, by far. In the cover of silence, he had somehow made his way onto the planetoid, and taken the life of the ruler of the four galaxies. Killed with an immortal blade, as well- or else, the body would have disappeared. He had truly never seen anything like it.

_So what do we plan to do now?_

Kaioshin closed his eyes from the ghastly site, and turned to face the still waters of his home. The wind caused a slight chop of the waves, rustling the liquid to create noise amidst the peacefulness of the setting.

"Well, Kibit," he spoke aloud, with a slight hesitation in his voice. He knew that his friend would not like this. "We go to the man who knows about these sorts of things."

_Somehow, I knew you were going to say that…_

"It's the only way."

_Kaioshin, he was banished for a reason. He's not to be tr-_

"And who is, at a time like this?" His query was met with no reply on the other end of his mind. Kibit had retreated into thought. It was just as well. Kaioshin needed as much clarity right now as he could possibly muster. With a sigh, he shut his eyes tightly, preparing himself mentally for the task of transporting his body elsewhere. He would bring Rou's killer into the light, even if it was the last thing he did.

-------

_Released…_

To Vegeta, the moon was laughing. It had been wished back a year ago. At one point, the source of the saiyajins' power. A permanent white smile, emblazoned against the night sky, hanging in watch over the peons below. Over him.

The saiyajin wiped the cold sweat from his brow, aftermath of yet another nightmare. Lately, he found comfort in standing on the balcony to overlook Western City at night. It was better than the monotonous quiet that was screaming inside. Better than the screaming in his head, for that matter.

Right now, all of his senses were heightened. He could smell Bulma's flowers on the deck below, lilacs and roses that lined the pathway up to the Capsule Corp. mansion. He could taste the humidity of a muggy night. He could hear the wind racing towards him just as its cool fingers ran across his bared chest, wrapping around his torso in a chilly embrace before hitting the balcony wall beyond. Vegeta increased his ki just enough to stop the next breeze dead in its tracks, and watched as its brethren followed suit. After a moment, he pushed his senses outward, throwing them all back into the trees where they came from. The leaves shook violently, and then quieted.

_Releasedes…_

Voices in the night. The saiyajin prince placed his hands on the balcony railing, leaning forward against the gritty concrete structure as he studied the city beyond. Even under his toughened fingertips, the stone felt rough and mangled. It reminded Vegeta of himself. Worn, strong, supportive. Tired. Tired from holding so much.

The voices that had been keeping him awake at night were coming more strongly now. Their message was certainly clearer, to say the least.

_Releasedestruction…_

Along with the voices had come the dreams. And with the dreams, the unshakable feeling that someone was watching. Vegeta shifted his weight, the familiar sensation of tingling hairs on the back of his neck sinking in once more. He could never make out anything, just a presence, amidst the shadows. It was there, even now. No ki- but there was something waiting. Had they tried to make any kind of attempt to remain hidden, it wouldn't have worried him so much. If any creature was watching him, certainly they knew what he was capable of doing. Surely they knew of the danger of being spotted. Yet, they didn't care. And that disconcerted him to no end.

He eyed the shadows underneath the foliage, studied them as the figure hidden there studied him back. Another cool breeze met the broad expanse of his chest again, and Vegeta turned his gaze away just long enough for the observer to disappear. Gone again. Just like last week. The saiyajin frowned to himself, and walked from the railing to enter the bedroom door, wide open in the night. As he passed through the doorframe, the drapes flapped noisily, causing a small stirring from his slumbering wife. Bulma had enjoyed the time of peace much more than he did, glad to have all the fighting said and done with. Though he would occasionally tell her about the dreams, she insisted that it was only his fighting spirit refusing the acceptance of a peaceful life. Somehow, he doubted that. There was always a threat, somewhere. He began to shut the doors behind him, letting his eyes roam upwards to study the moon once again…

And there it was.

Standing on the balcony, clad in black, his face pressed against the window panes, was his pursuer. It's features were covered in a metallic mask that resembled a skull, jaw jutting forward, white eyes underneath. The tattered hood whipped around his face in the wind, the torn edges of the cape that followed hanging lifelessly at the waist. It looked to Vegeta like Death. The saiyajin held his breath unknowingly, and the sudden click of the locking door caused him to gasp.

By the time he had looked up, the stranger had disappeared. Vegeta started searching frantically with his vision. Even the wind had died… All was silent save for the sound of his heart pumping violently in his own ears. Like a river of blood…

Suddenly, he felt a presence behind him. An icy soul, mere inches from his own- a throaty growl sounding in his ear.

"What do you want?" Vegeta spat, still facing forward. The presence behind him shifted, bringing itself even closer to his own body. Goosebumps began to ripple along his forearms as he waited, the fear holding him frozen in his movements.

"I want you to come back to bed," Bulma cooed in his ear. As quickly as it had arrived, the paralysis was gone, bringing in a flooding warmth with its absence. The saiyajin sighed, and leaned back against his wife.

"You worry me when you do this, you know," she whispered into his left ear. She wrapped her arms around him. "Come back to bed."

"I had another dream." He dared not tell her about the stalker on the balcony.

"I know," she answered. "You were talking in your sleep."

They began making their way deeper into the bedroom, with slow, lazy steps. "What was I saying?" Vegeta asked hesitantly.

Bulma plopped down on the mattress with less than grace, quickly snatching the covers up around her. "It was really creepy… something like… The will of the Kaioshin will not be broken…

_The Forgotten will see to that."_

The voices spoke the words just as she did.

"Do you know what that means?" she asked, rolling over as she drifted back into sleep.

Vegeta stared out of the balcony window as he pulled the covers over himself. Death was there again, leaning against the railing. "No," he responded absentmindedly. His eyelids began to droop heavily. "Not a clue." With not so much as a breath, Vegeta's head sank softly to the pillow, lost to the world of dreams. The masked being remained for a moment longer…

And then he was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Forgotten **

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The Halls of the Forgotten.

Footsteps. Echoings of a not-so-certain future making their way towards their mark. A steady ringing of boot colliding with stone floor, of that same sound repeating itself from the narrow walls and ceiling. Faster than their creator, the noises scurried down the hallway like mice, bringing joy, bringing pain, _bringing._ The dark corridor at this hour seemed to shout with pain at every change of intonation. At least to him, they did. They hadn't acted like this in millions upon millions of years...

The elder shifted slightly in his wooden seat, paying no mind to the crick-crack of the boards lodged together with rusty nails underneath his fragile body. He breathed deeply, watched the firelight of his desktop candle bow and stand upright in homage to its audience of one. The light orange glare sparkled from his immortal eyes, and reflected two tiny golden globes on the stone walls just opposite him. He studied the phenomenon for just a moment, and ran a hand through his long gray beard. Such times. Such strange times.

"My lord?" He had hardly noticed the approaching visitor's footsteps land at his doorway. Not surprisingly, his study suddenly filled with a new, long unvisited smell...

"Mmmm," the elder inhaled through his nostrils. He stood slowly, tilting his head back slightly as he marveled at the myriad of things that filled the vision of his closed eyes.

"Is something wrong, my lord?" The visitor asked quickly. He remained at his position by the entrance.

"Shhhh," the being quieted him with a finger as he turned fluidly in a circle, arms held wide. His tired feet shuffled noisily on the dusty stone, but that was of no consequence. It was the presence of nostalgia that intrigued him so at this moment... "You smell like..." Stars. Life. War. Hate. Love. Power. Flesh. Fire. Energy. Blood. "You smell like the outside." The aged figure halted in his circular rotation, pivoting to face his guest, and long time guardian.

"It has been a long time for us all."

"That it has, Artus," the immortal commented silently. "That it has." He felt a melancholy frown work its way across his expressions. Even behind the metallic mask, he could feel the burden of duty weighing heavily on Artus' spirit. The cloaked assassin held himself motionless, the candle's brilliance shining upon his white pupils. The glowing orbs were hard to miss, suspended beneath the sunken eyeholes of his shroud. So he had something to say... "What news do you bring?"

"Rou is dead."

"I see," his master replied. He turned then, hobbling quietly to his desk once more. There, he retrieved a feather pen, and began to scrawl out tiny characters of the ancient language upon rough sheets of paper. The leatherbound journal of his thoughts. Without facing Artus, he spoke. "You know what comes now."

"Very well." Artus waited for a moment, and then began to make his way out of the study. The powerful boots cast a shrill eardrum-splitting _thud_ with each step that the powerful warrior made.

"Oh, and Artus?" The footsteps halted. The elder continued to write aimlessly in his journal. "How long have you been wearing that mask?"

"Far too long, my lord."

"Do what is necessary, then. Spare the sword, and seal our fate..."

And with that, Artus the Slayer made his exit. Slowly but surely, the echoing of his boots gradually died down as the distance between them increased. Taking deep breaths with eyelids clamped tight, the immortal welcomed the Silence that flooded his chambers. It was time to call a meeting with the council.

-------

"Vegeta?" Goku called out of the backdoor of the Son family home. "You there?" The saiyajin quietly stepped onto the patio, surveying the heavy forest area around the property. The din from inside lowered drastically as the wooden door clicked shut, sealing him in the darkness. Inside, there was a meeting of families, with Chi Chi, Bulma, Goten, and Trunks catching up on old times. Not that this was anything new- they got together at least every month, Trunks and Goten more often than that, even. Goku smiled to himself. The defeat of Buu had brought on a lot of changes for everyone. And to think... none of this would even be his... The dark-haired warrior surveyed the rustling leaves of the trees, let his eyes drift lazily along the branches that reached out to shield the moonlight from his view. It was so peaceful.

Several meters ahead, he heard a slight shuffling of feet. "Vegeta?"

Bulma had mentioned inside that Vegeta was having some problems as of late, shortly after he went outside for "fresh air". And, of course, Chi Chi thought it a good idea for Goku to go check on him.

"It'll be fine," she had insisted. "He needs a friend like you."

He needs a punching bag like me, Goku thought. Though they had become slightly closer since the time of peace began, Goku still didn't feel that Vegeta really considered him a "friend". Or an acquaintance, for that matter. After years of boredom, the prideful saiyajin had finally relented and agreed to spar with Goku every once in a while. He actually seemed to enjoy it, though he would probably never admit to that. Most of the time, he would take to training with Trunks, instead.

Just ahead, the ground dropped several meters down a steady incline, a soft hill against the mountain of rocks that jutted out with the trees. As Goku approached its edge, he found Vegeta standing below.

"There you are!" the cheerful saiyajin exclaimed, hopping down to join him. Vegeta shot him a quick glance, snorted, and then turned to face the night sky. A calm wind found the two then, entering from the hill behind, and swooping down across their backs to fumble its way through the forest beyond. It left Goku with an eerie chill...

_Releasedestruction_...

"What do you want?" Vegeta asked. "If you think you're going to poke around in my head again, forget it." His fists were held loosely at his sides, his right containing a small stone. He looked down at it, and then reared back, throwing it into a cluster of trees. Directly in front of them, one of the mighty oaks collapsed loudly.

"Just thought I'd come out and see what you were doing," Goku explained. He watched silently as Vegeta obtained yet another stone, this time staring at it a moment before kicking it into a pine on their right. Just as before, it was followed with a noisy fall. It wasn't like Vegeta to be a part of such trivial undertakings.

"The woman talks too much."

Goku smiled as he sat down on the soft earth. "Don't they all?"

The prince seemed to find a bit of satisfaction in this statement. He said nothing, though, and continued what he was doing. As he eased into a comfortable position, Goku leaned back against a rather sharp rock, letting its tip press against the muscles near his shoulder blade. He felt his head drop backwards, and stared up into the midnight blue above, the sounds of Vegeta's rock game playing in his ears. It was a steady syncopated beat of pick up, toss, contact, and crash. Over and over it played, nearly lulling the saiyajin to sleep...

Suddenly, he stopped. Goku waited for a second, craning his neck to hear the rhythmic system begin once more. When it didn't, he lifted his eyes to look at Vegeta, who was simply staring out into the trees. Was something wrong? He quickly scanned the area, but couldn't quite see anything...

"Kakorotto," Vegeta spoke up. "Do you know what I hate more than anything?"

Goku had a few ideas... "What's that, Vegeta?"

Vegeta turned to face him, a slight crease in his brow from thought. "Of all the people that should know me well- my son, my wife... The person that has seen the most of me is _you_..."

For a second, Goku was perplexed, but soon realized of what Vegeta was speaking. It was something that he had thought of, too, though it had never occurred to him what that could hold for Vegeta. All those years ago, when the two had fused into one being to fight Majin Buu, they had seen and felt everything about one another. Their souls actually connected. Thoughts, desires, fears, and hopes- they all became tangible items to each member of the union. If either of them had any secrets, they were completely laid bare the instant that the two became one body. There was nothing that they could hide from one another. Rather ironic, actually. It sounded like what a true friendship would consist of- but they were forced into it under some extreme circumstances. Which is most likely what bothered Vegeta the most.

"I truly hate that more than anything."

Goku tried not to smile. So Vegeta did want to get something off of his chest, after all. In some way, he wanted others to know that under no ordinary circumstances would he _ever_ share anything personal with the saiyajin he despised the most... Yet here he was, about to do just that. Goku chose to say nothing, and waited for the other to continue.

And continue he did. "Do you ever dream, Kakorotto?"

He rapidly straightened up. Had Chi Chi mentioned his dreams to Bulma? "Yes... sometimes, I do. Is that what this is about?"

"Hmph," Vegeta snorted. "So the woman did mention it."

"Well not directly, really..." Goku trailed off as he absentmindedly rubbed the back of his head in thought. "What kind of dreams?"

_Releasedestruction..._

"I'm not sure how to describe them, really," the prince started. His fists gradually clenched tightly together as Goku observed him. He was rubbing his thumb gently over his index finger- the same subtle hand motion he made when preparing to attack. What had him so worked up? Surely they weren't as bad as his own... "They're about... you."

_He was hovering high above the Earth... suspended in the dead void of space. With a primal shriek, his body convulsed, and light broke through the darkness..._

Goku narrowed his gaze. "What about me?"

_Release..._

Vegeta tossed him a sideways stare. "You're destroying the world." The saiyajin heard his breath catch in his throat. Had he been having the same dreams? "And I'm watching you do it."

_Touch. Release._

"Vegeta..." Goku stood, began to approach Vegeta hesitantly. He couldn't quite explain it himself, but he felt that he had to...

"Let me finish, Kakorotto," the royal fighter grunted in frustration. "The only reason I tell you is because it won't stop." He turned to see his rival slowly walking towards him. "What are you doing?"

He couldn't believe it. They had been dreaming the exact same thing. Maybe Vegeta could hear the voices, too, then. Perhaps he knew that he wanted to follow them also. The only problem was that there was no telling what forces were providing them with these instructions.

_Touch._

Vegeta jerked to the side, as if someone behind him had just whispered in his ear. Goku stopped. "Do you hear them too, then?"

"Don't you dare touch me, Kakorotto."

"You said it yourself," Goku replied jokingly. He was standing right in front of Vegeta now. "I already know you best."

The shorter fighter grimaced, his face contorting into a mix of defeat and anger. "I hate you."

Goku smiled, and extended his arm. "I know."

His palm hovered over Vegeta's shoulder for a moment, and the two stared at the point of contact with held breath. The saiyajin slowly lowered it...

And without warning, their world was engulfed in a blinding light.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Been Inspired Lately I guess, marathon updating! Enjoy, and don't forget to offer me some advice/commentary if you feel so inclined.

_Watch your step,_ Kaioshin muttered as the heel of his boot sank deeply into a pile of damp terrain.

"I would rather watch for my life in a place such as this," Kibit responded begrudgingly. The quiet guardian stretched forth Kaioshin's comparably tiny arm as if it were his own to thrust a heap of dense leafy growth away, pausing to hold the bushes overhead long enough so that he could pass underneath. Much to the other's dismay, the immortal had placed the guardian with the task of the actual hiking. The less dialogue between them, the better, Kaioshin mused. After all, Kibit was angry enough about this expedition already. From the inner recesses of his mind, he observed thoughtfully as the subservient fighter controlled their unified body, navigating across the rocks.

Mount Tanral was arguably one of the most bleak, dilapidated, hidden, depressing stretches of charted creation. Resting inconspicuously on the dimly lit sphere Saru, it most certainly served its purpose: seclusion. The actual dimensions of Tanral were nearly immeasurable, given the rock's tendency to shift as much as thirty feet a day due to the highly unstable nature of Saru's landscapes. The result was a vast wayward desert in the craggy plains, coupled with a dense overgrowth of unnatural vegetation on the actual mountain itself. From an upward perspective, it would appear that all of the rest of the land was shoved up to the peak of the ominous cliff.

Peering up his makeshift trail towards the amber skies, Kaioshin could make out the white lightening that crackled across the thin veil of gray clouds. Its brief marathon run amidst the heavens illuminated the barren wastelands that stretched almost endlessly below. Animals scurried when the light flashed them into view, and they retreated once more to places unknown within the forest. The peak of Tanral was only slightly visible now, looming like a tower above them. A dark gray mist filled the void left by the clap of thunder. The land of eternal darkness...

The god frowned inwardly. _Naritae most certainly knows how to choose a home..._

"One doesn't have much choice when he is exiled from the heavens," Kibit grunted.

Kaioshin couldn't help but snort at the comment. _You only know this because Rou filled your thoughts with his opinions._

"I have no opinions," the guardian replied.

_Well,_ the other said, _These strong-willed suggestions sure are misleading, then._ Kibit hopped upon a mossy rock, fighting his way through several layers of thick brush. Somewhere, an unknown animal let out a piercing shriek, its voice ringing throughout the mountain forest. If memory served correctly, they were nearing their destination...

"Rou is wise," Kibit said after a moment's pause. With his enlarged palm, he uprooted a tree in a single swipe, allowing himself easy passage.

_True,_ Kaioshin answered. _Rou is dead, also._

The white-haired warrior shook his head in disagreement. Suddenly, a quiet rustling of leaves hissed from his left. He halted his movement and studied the surroundings carefully, listening to the sounds of the forest in the night. Nothing stirred. After a few moments of hesitant quiet, he spoke his mind. "He did not trust Naritae."

_And you think I do?_ The god countered swiftly. Kibit stopped in his tracks. Kaioshin could definitely feel the surprise written on his face. _For all I know, you could have killed Rou._.

He seemed utterly appalled at the statement. "Why, I would never..."

_I know, Kibit,_ Kaioshin cut him off before he could finish. He was obviously not one for jokes. _I know. This is our only place for answers. Now, if you don't mind..._

And with that, the immortal took control of the fused body and continued forward, effectively bringing the conversation to a close. Like a pouting child, Kibit retreated as always to a hidden region of the mind, so deep that his presence could almost not be felt. The god sighed heavily. He hardly blamed his friend for being so brash about what they were doing. He wasn't even sure for himself that this would pay off. If he was fortunate, he would just barely make it out of here alive, assuming that their host was either merciful or rusty with old age.

Rou had mentioned Naritae on one or two separate occasions, holding the name as if it were fragile as glass. The old man never went into extensive detail, but from what Kaioshin could gather, he was from another generation of holy ancestry, expelled from the heavens because of his sharp temper, and even sharper blade. A former servant of the Kaioshin, Naritae had grown accustomed to the title of "Redeemer", the silent and stealthy hand behind the decisions of the immortals that ruled Kaioshin Kai. When the four ruling governors wanted a matter solved quietly, and lethally, Naritae was the one that saw it through. Apparently, this is how much of the heavens were ruled for quite some time. It had originally shocked the god to learn that the sacred overseers of the past would go to such underhanded measures, but Rou didn't seem to mind...

_Some matters are best if left buried, you see... How can you be so naive? Even the heavens have an underbelly..._

The Kaioshin frowned at the remembrance of Rou's words. Perhaps the elder knew beforehand of the fate that would befall him? He stopped for a moment as he felt the droplets of rain begin to wash down the slopes of Mount Tanral. Overhead, thunder clapped its purpose once more, sending with it a wind that caused the immortal to shield his face. It was an interesting thought, indeed. Had Rou purposefully dropped Naritae's name in case such an incident occurred? What if it was Naritae himself that had killed Rou? There were too many questions that needed answering. Yet something told him he was about to find out...

Before he had even realized it, Kaioshin was suddenly at the end of the trail. Here, the ground was leveled out in a clearing, trees arching high on either side, with a perfect view of the landscape straight ahead. From this height, one could look out at the desert for miles upon miles. The rain continued to fall earnestly, splashing noisily upon his clothing as it ran down his body to join the flowing stream down over the cliff. Behind him, the trees swayed with an eerie rustling, the branches cracking and rubbing together as lovers caught in a deceitful dance. The darkness only served to enhance the overall foreboding atmosphere in Kaioshin's mind. An uneasy presence seemed to lurk nearby.

_Someone is watching, Kaioshin._

The immortal nodded at Kibit's abrupt appearance in his mind, nearly jumping at the shock it gave him. He crouched low and let his eyes attempt to adjust to the lack of light, however useless it may be. Whoever was watching him had obviously grown accustomed to the night of these lands, and definitely had any kind of advantage that one could hope for...

_Ahead, in the mouth of the cave._

Kaioshin narrowed his eyelids into slits, squinting to gaze forward. He had hardly even noticed the cave hidden in the plant life; its mouth blended in well with the rest of the clearing. Without warning, lightning blazed like fire in the sky, giving a hurried glimpse of a shadowy figure within, eyes glowing a dull red. Kaioshin gasped, and nearly rolled backwards into the brush.

"Is my killer so fearful of me?" A deep bass voice rang with authority from the pitch black of the cave's entrance. "Do tell before you die."

Kaioshin wrinkled his forehead in thought. What could he possibly say that could remedy the situation? "I am in need of your assistance!" he shouted back, taking a step forward into the clearing. He offered his hands to show that he held no weapon.

"Assistance, you say?"

The voice had come from his left this time. The white-haired immortal whipped to his side, leaping backwards in case of attack. Nothing came. Only darkness and the shuffling of leaves could be seen and heard. His eyes ran across the trees and then to the cave, scanning like mad for some kind of answer. An odd chuckle began to form behind him...

Much to his surprise, a powerful hand slammed into a vice grip upon the Kaioshin's neck, lifting him from his feet with a swiftness that left him reeling. The unseen attacker launched him forward to collide face-first with the rocks before him, shattering the stone upon impact. Rapid footsteps could be heard racing towards him after that, and before he knew it, he was once again being hoisted from the muddy clearing. As the assailant heaved the god's body upward, the rain continued to splash cold relief upon Kaioshin's now battered face. The stinging sensation of a thin cut ran the length of his chin- a blade far sharper than any he had ever encountered was pressed tightly against him.

And Naritae's face was suddenly mere inches from his own. Even through the veil of night, Kaioshin could see the scars that ran the length of the shockingly youthful visage, with long black hair cascading down either cheek to join the neatly trimmed beard that covered his face. His hollow red eyes narrowed in anger like twin daggers, poised for triumph.

"Hmm, a young one..." Fingernails sharp and unkept clasped the god's cheeks to angle his head upwards. Was this assassin studying him? "You don't appear as the others."

"What others?" Kaioshin did his best to keep a calm voice. The eyes of the killer tightened.

A laugh. "Don't play the fool with me," Naritae hissed. "What other class of creature would seek my demise?"

"The Kaioshin?"

"You are one in the same." The sword pressed to his jaw retreated, brought in a quick arch to point directly at the temples. Naritae twisted the point ever-so-slightly, causing the tip to pierce the skin.

Kaioshin grunted. "I am the last."

"What was that?" Naritae seemed perplexed.

"I am the last of the Kaioshin," as he ground out the words, the elf-like god peered into the eyes of the other. "My kind is no more- for what purpose would we seek your demise?"

With those words, the other let Kaioshin drop to his feet. As his boots splashed down on the muddy rock, a stream of blood poured from where Naritae had let the blade barely pierce his skin. Kaioshin gasped for breath, grabbing hold of the rocks behind him for support. Rain continued its downpour, and lightning illuminated the clearing once again. In the brightness, Kaioshin could see the confusion and turmoil etched across the man's face.

"Then you don't know?" Naritae asked after several moment's pause. He ran a hand through his long dark hair, throwing the water back over his face to wash the glowing red eyes. Those eyes had grown a shade duller since the anger had been removed from his expression.

"Know what?" Kaioshin inquired, pulling himself to a standing position.

The assassin sheathed his blade behind his back, taking a few steps forward. "Come with me. Destruction is nigh. The Forgotten have awoken."

-------

_Vegeta crouched himself low, falling backwards in a bright, grassy field. What in the name of Kami? The prince of the saiyajins scratched his head tentatively, taking slow deep breaths as he let his eyes adjust to the shining sun above. He had just been standing in the forest with Kakarotto... Who had touched him..._

_And now where was he?_

_He turned his head from side to side, scanning the horizons either way. A quiet wind stirred the calm, rustling the leaves of the trees all around him. He appeared to be in a quaint garden of sorts. However, a small part of him recognized the setting. A part of him long forgotten. This was where he had fought with the Majin Buu. This was Kaioshin Kai._

_Vegeta stood up slowly, and stretched his suddenly aching muscles. None of this seemed to make any sense. Why was he..._

_A quick glance at his feet told him enough. These weren't his clothes. The boots were a red material, something that couldn't be found on Earth, or anywhere he had seen in his travels for that matter. This was the attire of a Kaioshin. He pulled his hand into view, shocked to see a purple palm instead of his normal tan one. This was the body of a Kaioshin, as well. So was he lost in a dream? Had the encounter with Kakarotto been a vision also?_

_The prideful saiyajin stepped forward quietly, hearing the individual blades of grass crunch underneath his heel. A small bird chirped softly in the trees, its rushing wings whipping from one ear to the next. All of his senses were heightened in this grove. Were these the keen sensations of the immortals? As he made his way through the brush, now as high as his knees, he found a body of still, peaceful water. Its crystal surface was inviting and clear, and the whistling wind cast small waves to its consistency. Vegeta leaned forth to look down into its sandy bottom, to find, unsurprisingly, a reflection not his own..._

_Rou Kaioshin. _

_The confused fighter cocked his head curiously, reaching old, crooked fingers to the cool liquid, stirring it in a clockwise motion. His face distorted with the disturbance, twisting and contorting into things that were not of this world. Vegeta placed his chin atop his hand, watching curiously as the water settled to its normal activity, only to find a new face joining Rou's. _

_A witch._

_The elder female magician's visage convoluted into a lopsided grin, cackling as her hand darted to grasp his ear. Vegeta snarled in pain, rotating to face her. He would teach the hag her lesson..._

_As he turned to confront her, an odd sensation began to race through the prince's body. His heart's palpitations quickened along with his already heightened state of breath. The world around him grew glassy and dizzying as his vision blurred. He had felt this way before... He had felt this way when he and Kakarotto fused... Vegeta's hand immediately found its way to his right ear, finding that a small ear ring hung like a condemning weight. Through his rocky perception, he could make out a glowing orb from the other's left ear. This was how Rou had fused with the witch... This was... This was..._

_The Beginning..._

Vegeta opened his eyes and inhaled deeply, finding himself in the same clearing in the same dark forest with the same Kakorrotto, who stood before him, crouched in the same position that the witch had been holding herself in. The prince of the saiyajin was still cupping his right ear, however, an ear ring was no longer there. Though his eyes could barely see amidst the dark of Kakarotto's property, he could tell that this is where they had been before.

"You were Rou..." Kakarotto whispered.

"And you were the witch," Vegeta hissed. They stood there in silence, letting the tall trees hover around them while the wind howled its chorus. In the distance, the mingling of the two families could be heard, and the light of the dwelling faintly burned its way through the mighty trunks. After a few minutes, the two spoke simultaneously.

"What the heck just happened?"


End file.
